


Covet and Birthdays

by RedOutCold (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Damian is growing up, Denial of Feelings, Dick can't handle his feelings, Jason is a lovable asshole, Jason is not having it, M/M, Major Character Injury, Some Humor, Stephanie Brown ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-13 04:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RedOutCold
Summary: Dick Grayson is struggling with a desire he wish didn't exist.





	1. It's Been Awhile

**Author's Note:**

> So after writing my first fic ever, 'Where's the punchline?', it kinda drained me emotionally ( a lil depressing). So I decided to try something more on the lighthearted side of the spectrum, but somewhat takes itself seriously..? Let me know if I succeeded at all. Again, constructive feedback will be very appreciated.

When Damian had turned the ripe ol' age of seventeen years old, Dick actually noticed him.

That was a bit of an understatement. Dick has always noticed Damian, but this was the first time he was actually  _paying attention._

It's been over a year since he last saw the youngest Wayne, and a lot of that had to do with the dire infiltration of Spyral and his crucial role as agent 37. The task Bruce had put him up to was demanding, and it deprived him of the social time he cherished with his friends and family. But his days as agent 37 were finally over, Dick was thankful to return to his role as Nightwing and resume defending Bludhaven. He was also very jubilant over the aspect of finally seeing all his love ones again. 

He was very cheerful to finally see the baby of the Wayne family. And on the kid's special day of all occasions. 

"As soon as we see him, we need to bum-rush and squeeze the demon spirit out of him," Stephanie said as they strolled together towards the manor.  

Dick hummed. "I don't think I want to catch him off guard this time around. Last few times I managed to hug Damian against his will, I barely came out of it alive. He's probably gotten a lot bigger and more skilled. And this is coming from a guy who  _loves_ to hug and getting hugs."

 "Oh no, Dick," Steph insisted. "Damian's getting this affection whether he wants it or not. And I'm counting on you to be the muscle and hold him down. Colin and Maya agreed to dog-pile. Jason too, but I'm getting the feeling he's in it to torture the kid."

"Oh? What gave him away? His diabolical grin or maniacal laughter?" 

"...I'd have to say both. He wasn't exactly hiding it."

They snickered as they reached the front doors of the manor. Alfred, ever so studious and prompt, opens the elegantly crafted doors before Dick's hand produces the first knock.

"Alfie!" Dick, in his excitement  _picks up Alfred and spins him around._

Stephanie barks a laughter at the sight. Like a hen who's feathers have been ruffled, Alfred is not the least bit amused or impressed, and his expression says as much when when Dick puts him back on the ground. The old butler hasn't changed much, save for some light receding along his hairline and a few more wrinkles finding solace in the skin around his face. Alfred is still Alfred, and it warms Dick's heart to see the old man looking well. 

"Yes, well," Alfred started as he straightened his vest. "It's a pleasure to see you too, Master Dick. I take it your trip here from Bludhaven went well?"

"As well as can be. Steph was awesome enough to keep me company." Dick replied as he took in the manor. Everything was the way he remembered it. The pristine porcelain floors, the elevated ceiling possessing the sophisticated attributes of the Wayne heritage, the eye-catching chandelier that Dick always fantasized swinging on (which Alfred absolutely forbid), the grand staircase that seemed to go on forever and the incredibly spacious areas that was the Wayne household.  

Dick and Stephanie followed Alfred to the kitchen at the smell of what Dick knew was a birthday cake. The cake, red velvet and roux icing, stood high and graceful on the kitchen counter with the unlit candles '1' and '7' placed firmly at the top. 

"So," Stephanie said as Alfred rummage through the cabinet. "When can we expect the demon spawn to come home? I'm ready to smother him."

"Probably within the next half hour or so, Bruce had convinced Master Tim to take Master Damian to see a movie downtown. From what Bruce has gauged from Master Tim so far, Master Damian has made no attempted at escape." Alfred said as he placed a carton of chocolate syrup and sprinkles on the counter next to the bowls and spoons. 

Dick's eyes brighten considerably. "Damian and Timmy are getting along?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "If by 'getting along' you mean not trying to murder each other as much as they use to, then yeah."

 Dick was pleased. It was progress, and pretty soon his little brothers would be frolicking hand in hand in a meadow of flowers. Okay, well, maybe not...but close. 

Time passed where Alfred set up the table and Dick and Stephanie helped. The decorations were already in place; balloons, streamers, crowns, the big "Happy Birthday" sign over the table. It was all perfect. What made it even better was the moment Jason finally showed up with Barbara, Cassandra, Colin, Maya and Duke. 

"Tim better hurry up with the Satan spawn. I'm dying to strangle the twerp." Jason exclaimed excitedly. 

"You mean hug," Stephanie corrected. 

Jason just gave Stephanie a blank stare. 

"I said what I said, Steph."

As Jason and Stephanie started bickering, Dick sauntered over to Barbara. She gave him a warm smile. "How does it go, boy wonder?"

Dick huffed. "Not my title anymore, Barb. We went over that a few years ago." 

She 'tutted' and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "You made the title,  _boy blunder."_

Dick and Barbara immediately fell into their old banter routine. It was like he never disappeared for over a year. The feisty redhead that once had his heart was as sharp as ever, her good nature attitude still ever present along with her quick wit. Dick was glad that there seemed to be no hard feelings over his hiatus. 

The whole dining room lit up with chatter and joy. Everyone seemed to be getting along great and catching up, even Jason was playing nice. That all died down as soon as Bruce stepped into the room. 

Bruce, like Dick remembered, was a force to be reckoned with. Bruce had always maintained this air of sternness and resolve. The man hasn't age too much, it's only been over a year, but Dick could pick out the faint lines of silver around his temples, invading the normally solid black hair. Yet, that meant nothing when the man was still built like a bull. Bruce was foreboding, in and out of the Batsuit. People (normal people, mind you) found Bruce's demeanor to be quite intimidating without much effort from the detective's part, however Dick thought that just meant the man was emotionally stunted. 

"Tim tells me they're pulling up right, now. Is everything ready?" Bruce asked Alfred. 

Alfred replied. "Yes, Master Bruce. Will you be participating with the 'dog-piling Damian'? I believe that is what the kids are calling it." 

Bruce just gave Alfred a pointed stare, however Alfred wasn't the least bit bothered by it. 

Colin, who's phone flashed repeatedly, took a look at the screen. His face broke into a wide smile as he nudged Stephanie in the arm. 

"Tim says they're coming to the door! Everyone hide!" 

As soon as Dick turned around, Bruce disappeared from sight, along with Alfred. Everyone took a collective spot underneath the table while Dick and Jason hid behind the kitchen counter. Dick hears the soft 'click' of a lock and a door swinging open. 

"I swear, Drake, if you _ever_   ask me to go see such garbage again I will have your  _head above my fireplace."_

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. You wouldn't shut up complaining about it the entire goddamn ride home."

"Honestly! How can those people in the audience find such insipid antics amusing? What exactly was clever about any of those jokes? The writers and the production team should be  _embarrassed._ Absolutely brain-dead entertainment." 

Dick takes a risky peak around the corner. He wanted to see the youngest Wayne before he was attacked by practically every being in the room. Dick wanted to see how much of Damian had changed and how much had stayed the same since the last time they interacted. 

And Damian...was not what Dick had expected.

When the boy was brought to them by the tender age of ten, he was the spitting image of Bruce with a hint of Talia. Dick had found it endearing back then, how much he looked like a stern mini version of his father. However, contrary to popular beliefs everyone shared about his genetics, it seemed the more he grew, the more he took on Talia's features. His skin remained that permanent rich tan associated with his Al Ghul blood, along with the distinctive green eyes his mother and grandfather seemed to share. But the telltale features of his face and physique clearly favored his mother's side more so than the Wayne side. Damian's face grew sharp and elegant, much like Talia's in the most flattering manner. His hair wasn't the spikey situation that the boy used to prefer, rather the spikes seemed to have turned into  _wavy black curls_ that fell over his eyes in greater length than he had ever allowed for his hair to be when he was a child. Dick could tell even under the the oversized hoodie he was wearing, that his physique was  _lithe_ like Talia's, not the bulky large frame that was his father. 

All this change in just over a year was stunning. And Dick was so taken aback that he hadn't even realized that Damian had finally noticed him hiding behind the counter. Dick snapped awake the moment Damian started walking over to him. 

"What exactly do you think you're doing Grayson-"

Jason apparently found that to be his cue.

"C'mere you little shit!"

Jason pounced a surprised Damian to the floor. They rolled and struggled until Jason managed to get the birthday boy in a proper choke-hold. But Damian didn't submit easily, rather he attempted to sweep his legs under his body, probably aiming to kick Jason in the gut to break the hold. 

Stephanie popped out from under the table and glared at Jason. "You're not suppose to wrestle the birthday boy, Jay."

"Hey, look. Dick blew our cover, I had to think fast. Now hurry up if you wanna dog-pile. I can't keep him like this forever."

"I swear to whatever higher being is above, Todd, I will certainly make you  _rue_ the day you were born!"

Stephanie looks to consider breaking it up, but shrugs and joins in. Colin, Maya, Duke, Barbara and Dick himself join. Damian realizes he can't fight off seven highly trained people, especially when one has him under a solid headlock, so he stops thrashing but continues to spit insults at everyone. 

The rest of the birthday party goes well aside from Damian giving Jason the consistent death glare. Alfred makes sure Damian sits through the birthday song and open his gifts. Later on, Stephanie ends up getting a little too emotional over Damian growing up, which prompts Alfred to bring tissues. Damian's face just twist in annoyance. 

Sometime in the evening, everyone parts ways and heads home. Bruce pats Damian on the back and makes his way to the cave to continue working on a case, Tim assists him with it. Alfred cleans up around the dining room and starts working on the dishes, Stephanie and Dick help pick up streamers and pop balloons. Damian lounges around the kitchen, looking quite relieved the whole ordeal is over. 

"That will not be repeated on my eighteenth birthday."

Dick just smiles. "Now it wasn't all that bad. Everyone thought it'd be nice to wish you a happy birthday. I'd say it was the best birthday."

"Tt."

Stephanie throws a plastic cup at Damian's head. Which, of course he catches. 

"Don't be such a grinch. And it wasn't just about you, it was also about the people who care about you." Stephanie said as she crouched down to swipe a streamer. 

A moment later, Damian hops down from the counter to go up the staircase. Dick quickly grabs his elbow and halt him. Damian doesn't fight him off immediately, instead he just stares expectantly at the older man. 

"Look, Damian," Dick started. "I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in awhile. It's been rough on my end, but I'm glad to finally see you again. And I'm also sorry for not bringing a present on your special day, I know I kinda suck right now."

Damian's eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "...You don't have anything to apologize for, I understand. And I don't care for presents, Richard. You being here is a present in of itself." Damian takes his arm back and continues his trek up the staircase. Dick watched a little surprised. And a little warm. 

Dick returned back to the task of cleaning up the dining room. All the balloons had been popped, except for two that Steph planned to take home. And they manage to get all the streamers in one pile and  _why did they buy so many streamers?_

Stephanie leaned against the table and sighed. She looked up at Dick and did a quick double take.

"You're blushing. Why are you blushing?"

Dick blinked.

"I know a blush when I see a blush. And you're doing it. Like, right now."

Dick shrugged awkwardly. "We've been cleaning up for awhile...maybe I'm working up an exercise..?"

Stephanie clearly wasn't buying it. But she didn't say anything else about it, just kept giving him suspicious glances. 

 

_You being here is a present in of itself._


	2. A Tender Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Dick go out patrolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it appears that I'm a slow burner type of writer. This chapter is a bit shorter but I'm hoping to make a turning point in chapter three or four. So hang in tight. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.

True to Damian's word, a party was not repeated for his eighteenth birthday. 

As the days had approached, he reminded everyone that he was greatly opposed to any celebration surrounding his special day. Dick was predictably disappointed to say the least, his seventeenth was something that Stephanie and Alfred had a heavy hand in planning, and his appearance that day was pretty last minute. It would've been amazing if Dick was allotted the opportunity to partake in the planning. But this time around, since Damian had finally entered adulthood, everyone felt it was best to respect the boy's wishes.

That didn't, however, stop Dick from sulking. 

 "For the love of _god_ , Dick, please _go away_."

Dick had spent the entire day clinging onto Tim. Damian's birthday was mere hours away, yet everyone around the manor acted like nothing was amiss. There was no sense of trepidation, no excitement, nothing. It drove Dick mad. And because Damian had enough intuition to avoid Dick as the hours approached, he found himself following Tim around the manor to vent.

"It's just not right! We should at least buy him a birthday cake!  _Something!_ A boy is only eighteen once, Tim!" Dick said exasperated as he flopped down on Tim's bed. 

Tim grumbled as Dick scooted his computer and files away to make room for himself. Tim had just returned from a month long trip to Venezuela to crack down a huge drug ring that intertwined with some of Gotham's notorious crime lords, notably Black Mask and the Penguin. Even with the help of Barbara, Tim was finding it difficult to pinpoint exactly where all the strings were attached to properly infiltrate the shady ties. Dick knew this, but he felt the innate need to pester Tim anyways.

"Don't you think it's a little concerning that we're not doing anything for Damian?" Dick pressed on.

Tim stopped his fluttering fingers over his keyboard. "Dick. I'm trying to infiltrate a drug ring. Please leave me alone."

"But this is super important, Tim! I thought you would understand." 

"Dick. A drug ring."

Dick leaned back and pouted. Tim just sighed. 

"If Damian wants to do absolutely nothing for his birthday, then that's that. It's his day, Dick, let's just respect it." 

Dick knew what Tim said was true. It's something that should be respected. But it didn't mean he had to like it. 

He hopped off the bed grumbling under his breath. He could detect in his peripheral Tim's sudden relaxed composure as Dick stalked out the room.

Dick walked along the corridor feeling very annoyed. A special occasion was a special occasion. He realizes Damian isn't a child anymore and all the stuff Dick would like to do was completely unnecessary. But he wanted to at least have the day acknowledge, maybe one last little party, nothing to big or meticulous like last year, but just family and friends spending time together. That's how it should be, right?

 Dick was considering getting into contact with Stephanie to pull off a last minute surprise. Out of everyone, Dick knew Stephanie would feel the way he does, and probably get in on the scheme.

Just as Dick started to fish in his pocket for his phone, he heard a British accent that claimed his attention. 

"Ah, Master Dick, there you are. Master Bruce and Master Damian would like for you to come down to the cave. It's rather important." 

Dick didn't ask questions, he just followed the old butler down the corridor to the cave. Dick had the troubling thought that there was a father and son dispute taking place. It wouldn't be the first time he had to come to the manor or the cave to break it up. Bruce and Damian were both emotionally stunted, serious, and stubborn cases that have often on multiple occasions came at each others throats over the years. And when it got heated, poor Alfred had to seek Dick out to play the moderate peacemaker. Dick hoped the current situation wasn't that. 

Upon entering the cave, he caught sight of Damian, who wasn't in his normal Robin suit. Instead, the boy wonder was dressed in a uniform similar to Dick's Nightwing attire. The uniform was a sleek solid black. There were wide white stripes that lined both sides of Damian's legs, right down to his thick black boots. The entire top half of the uniform, Dick could tell, was a smooth detachable leather hoodie, similar to Barbara's batgirl suit. The hoodie shared the same design as his pants with some padding on his elbows and shoulders. His gloves were black, except for his middle finger and ring finger being white. Damian's mask was the same his Robin mask, but it was an ink black instead the strong yellow Dick was used to seeing. 

 The whole get up was nostalgic to the suit he wore the day Talia left him in Bruce's care.

"What's all this about?" Dick asked, eyeing an annoyed Damian. 

Bruce, who had been wholly focused on the bat-computer, spoke. "Since Damian's no longer a kid anymore, he feels he should move on from the Robin Identity and become someone entirely new." 

Dick beamed. "Oh, yea? What's your new alias?" 

"Striker." Damian said, clipped tone. 

Bruce turned away from the bat-computer and spoke directly to Dick. "Damian wants to start patrolling independently on a regular basis under his new identity. And as we all recall a few months ago at the docks-"

"Tt. It was an accident."

"-I've been  _hesitant_  to allow Damian to be on his own," Bruce gave the youngest Wayne an icy stare. "So, to regain some of my trust back, I want you to take my place tonight. Help me come to a decision on whether or not Damian should start handling patrol by himself."

Damian snapped. "This is ridiculous! I'm going to turn eighteen in three hours. I'm old enough to handle myself."

"As long as you still live under my roof, my rules are still in effect."

Damian visibly bristled at that statement but said nothing else. Dick just shrugged. "Sure thing, Bruce. You sure are putting me in the hot-seat with this task, though."

"Well, I've been told by some sources that I need to expand my perspective." Bruce said, making a point to stare at Alfred.

 

 

"Jesus, Damian! It's not a race!" Dick shouted. 

Nightwing and Striker have been running on the rooftops for an hour now, stopping every now and then to save an innocent gothamite from muggers. They managed to interrupt a few robberies at a some rundown convenience stores, they stopped an all out brawl at a smokey bar, and Striker saved a cat from a fire escape (Dick thought that was just plain sweet). 

Striker slowed down his pace for Nightwing, giving the man ample time to catch up. 

"Now," Nightwing huffed. "Let's just take a moment, okay? You're moving like a bat out of hell. No pun intended."

Striker snapped. "No names in the field, Nightwing. You Know this." 

Surprised, Nightwing grabbed Striker's arm and halted him to a complete stop. Striker snatched it back as if he had been burned.

Nightwing just stared at him. 

"Why are you being like this right now? We're doing great. You're doing great. The attitude can take a backseat, you don't need it." Nightwing could hear his serious tone oozing into his demeanor. Striker has been completely restless since they left the cave, constantly looking to save someone or stop something, which wasn't bad in itself, but there was no harm in stopping to get your bearings. 

At the faint sound of sternness in Nightwing's voice, Striker faltered and took a sudden interest in staring at his boots. Nightwing just sighed. 

"If you want an early verdict, I think you can and should patrol independently. You can manage just fine under stressful situations and you're skilled enough to hold your own."

"It's not enough for you to say that. It won't convince father. He will continue to treat me like a child." Striker said, making no eye contact. 

Dick was aware of the relationship between Damian and Bruce. Dick knew that Bruce had an awful habit of distrust when it came to Damian despite the improvement in their relationship, and regardless of what sound criticism Bruce had of Damian's efforts and judgement, the kid's Al Ghul heritage played a huge role. Being someone who has killed in the past and struggles with empathy for their enemy, Damian was a dicey task for Bruce, more so than Jason. 

Nightwing placed his hands on Striker's shoulders. "I'll convince him, alright? Look, I trust you. You're a bright and passionate fighter, more than what I was at your age. I know you have it in you to make the right decisions for others and for yourself. I wouldn't have bothered with Bruce's request if I didn't think you could take on this responsibility. You got this in the bag." 

Striker looked up, surprised at Nightwing's strong statement. Then he pulled a smile that caught Nightwing completely off guard. It wasn't like the haughty, shit-eating smile that he gave to pretty much everyone. But a genuine, gentle smile that softened his sharp features and carried a tender kind of warmth to his eyes. 

Dick could feel the odd sensation of butterflies beating around in his stomach and the fluttering of his heart in his chest. 

   _Is this what Bruce felt with Talia once?_

Nightwing immediately dropped his hands from Striker and took a quick step back. Striker appeared puzzled at the action, it came out of nowhere, so Nightwing quickly wracked his brain for something

"Uh...why don't we get back to work, huh?" Nightwing says as hops off the roof, not looking back at Striker.

 

 

Dick kept his word to Damian and convinced Bruce to let him patrol on his own as Striker. To Damian, it was the perfect gift, and to show his gratitude he allowed Dick to drag him to see a movie with Stephanie and Colin for his birthday. They sat together front row in the theatre, Stephanie and Dick sitting on the outside with Damian and Colin sitting in the middle. There were multiple times where Dick's hand accidentally brushed Damian's when they reached for the popcorn. 

Every brush of skin brought back the same sensations he felt the night before when Damian had smiled at him. 

 


	3. Covet at the Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicions are raised and Dick comes to a realization that troubles him to the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! I'm feeling a little burned out, I might end up taking a break a day or two before adding another chapter, it depends on how I feel after posting this chapter. But don't worry! Chapters will continue very soon. As always, constructive feedback is appreciated. Enjoy.

The night of Damian's nineteenth birthday, Dick was confronted with a conclusion that made him feel dizzy and distraught.

Gotham's favorite playboy, Bruce Wayne, had decided to host a gala at the Wayne tower downtown in celebration of his youngest son's birthday and acceptance to Gotham University. He invited all of Gotham's elitists and reporters to the scene. It was a buzz that floated around the news and media outlets as the days approached the formal event.

And as the days went on, Damian grew increasingly agitated.

"This is foolish. The real reason he's doing this is to keep up appearances with the wealthy. I am merely a pawn in the grand scheme of things," Damian remarked.

Dick, Damian, Tim and Maya were all seated in the back of a sleek limousine. The entire ride was filled with tension as Damian seethed silently next to Maya, his supposed date.  

Maya elbowed his side. "Suck it up, birthday boy. The people need to be reminded that Damian Wayne's existence isn't a myth. You're hardly out in public, and people are convinced that you're a hermit. Or that Bruce made you up."

"And the only reason you're coming with me is to torture me and stuff your face," Damian didn't even bother with hiding his scorn. "And I'm disgusted that it was _Father's_ idea to put you up to it."

"You aren't wrong. Your old man has hella food when he throws these stuffy parties," Maya said shamelessly.

 For most of the ride, Dick had remained silent. Originally, when Bruce had asked him to come to the gala he was gleeful. He had planned to come anyways for the simple fact that it was Damian's birthday, but he imagined the youngest Wayne being reluctant and a little difficult to say the least. Dick knew Damian would do everything in his power to avoid any human interaction at the gala, very likely making an unexpected disappearance before anyone realized he was gone. Dick was under the impression that if he came he could keep Damian company and make the whole situation bearable for him. 

It never crossed his mind that Damian would bring a date.

Dick liked Maya. She was the perfect spitfire to keep Damian in check. Unlike everybody else, Maya met Damian's temper tantrums head-on, she wasn't afraid to stand her ground nor speak her mind. Dick also found her to be a pretty cool kid with her easy going ways and anecdotes. But seeing her all dolled up next to Damian awoken something in Dick that he couldn't quite understand. It was a feeling that roamed in the pit of his stomach and coiled in his chest. It made his throat dry and carried an odd prickling sensation at his nape. 

_They're just friends._

 Dick shook the thought away. Why would he even need that reassurance? What for?

Tim noticed Dick's unusual silence and nudged him gently. "Hey, are you alright?"

Dick blinked. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I just...I just have a bit of a headache, that's all." 

Damian finally noticed Dick's silence. "If Grayson is feeling unwell, perhaps we should turn the limousine around. We wouldn't want the reporters to make any headlines about his ailments."

"For the last time, Master Damian you are not avoiding this gala. Don't use Master Dick to further your objectives." Alfred said from the driver's seat. 

Damian leaned back and continued to fume while Maya just snorted at him. Dick remained quiet for the rest of the ride and received concerned glances from Tim. 

 

 

For some weird particular reason, this gala seemed unbearable for  _Dick._

Dick knew how to fake his way through formal events. Growing up with Bruce taught him to play up his charm and be an acceptable socialite. He picked up a lot from watching Bruce Wayne play the playboy role that the public had come to expect, and Dick was a naturally born social butterfly, so playing along to the fictional personality of a wealthy son was normally second nature to him. 

However tonight, Dick was struggling to even pull a half-ass smile. 

Each socialite that approached Dick noticed his unusually reserved demeanor, most knew him to be a vibrant person among all the stuffy and posh attendees. It was off putting for some to see Dick's change in behavior.

One man in particular by the name of Robert Poindexter, a foundation organizer for Gotham's college scholarships and CEO of the Poindexter enterprise, took notice of Dick and acknowledged the odd change. 

 "Is everything alright, young man? I know these events can be quite maddening, what with all the paparazzi and these snooty rich folk. "

Dick just gave an unconvincing laugh. "No, no. I just have a headache. Nothing too major. I'm sure I'll get over it."

Robert's face melted into concern. "Well, now. If you aren't feeling well you should be at home resting. Being at a gala of all places isn't going to help you get better."

Dick just shrugged. "Well, it's my brother's birthday. I can't miss out on that."

Robert brought his arm around Dick's shoulder. "Now, isn't that just considerate of you, I hope the boy knows what a good brother he has." 

Dick hummed absently as he caught sight of Damian and Maya across the ballroom. Maya had made herself very much at home by the food table and Damian just stood there defensively, staring in annoyance as Maya picked off several plates and motioned for random strangers to come wish Damian a happy birthday. 

"Damian's grown to be quite the heart-breaker, and what a lovely young woman he has." Robert comments nonchalantly. At that, Dick feels the tight, coiling sensation build in his chest again. What was wrong with him?

"Hey, Dick _wad_ , have you seen Bruce?" 

Dick was surprised as Jason suddenly appeared in his vision, dressed down and hair slicked back. Stephanie was next to him, and for a woman who lacked a wealthy background, she certainly dressed the part and blended in quite easily with all the other socialites. 

At the crude nickname, Robert was taken aback. "Are these friends of yours, Richard?"

"Uh, yeah. Very close friends actually. This is Jason and Stephanie. Jason and Stephanie, this is Robert  _Poindexter."_ Dick emphasized, mostly to Jason. 

Jason being Jason, pulled Robert in for a bear-hug and gave the man a firm handshake. Robert was ruffled by Jason's overt casualness. 

"Wayne sure knows how to throw a fucking party, am I right? Hey, buddy, have tried the food yet? Fucking mouthwatering, man." Jason raved obnoxiously. 

Dick could sense that Robert was a little put off by Jason, and not so subtly stepped back from Jason's embrace. "No I have not, and as a matter of fact, I think I'm going to go try the food right now. I'll talk to you again Richard." Robert walks off to the crowd and misses the glare that Dick sends to Jason. Jason wraps an arm around Stephanie's waist and appears to be content and unaffected by Dick's growing irritation. 

"Ya know, I think that old guy liked me." 

"Do you have to be obnoxious, Jay? And why are you looking for Bruce? No, why are you even _here?_  This isn't your scene." Dick wouldn't admit it, but he was glad that Jason scared off Robert. He didn't know how long he could continue to entertain the man when he was feeling so closed off tonight. 

Stephanie piped in. "Jason's on a serious mission tonight. And he wouldn't give me peace unless I helped him get in."

Dick immediately became alerted. "Like what? What's going on that needs Bruce's attention?" 

"Nothin' really. I'm just here for the food and to piss Bruce off. Mostly to piss Bruce off." Jason said as he eyed the table Maya and Damian were posted. 

Dick gave him a pointed stare. "He's talking to Gordon and security, you'll see him." 

Jason patted Dick's shoulder as he strolled off in search of Bruce, or food. It was a toss up. 

Dick had been so distracted by Robert and Jason that he had failed to notice Damian and Maya on the dance floor. Maya clung closely to Damian and led the dance. They were moving with such graceful fluidity, it was like they were the only ones on the floor, in the room, just them.They were the perfect partners. It should've impressed Dick. Instead, Dick felt a hot flash of what he  _knew_ for certain was anger. And it frustrated him. Why was he bothered by this? What exactly was it about this whole scenario that was setting him off?  _Why did he care?_

Dick was failing to notice a lot of things tonight, including the contemplative stare Stephanie was giving him. 

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to blow a fuse." Stephanie said carefully. 

Dick nodded. "I'm fine. I just have a headache. I'll get over it."

He wasn't fine. He continued to watch Maya and Damian glide across the floor with precise movements. Damian seemed entirely focused on just dancing, he hardly reacted whenever Maya would press herself against him every now and then.

"Dick, seriously. You look like you're about to kill someone. And that's not a good look for you. What's really wrong?" Stephanie pressed. 

Dick shook his head and turned away. He didn't understand what was so wrong about Damian and Maya, but it was getting under his skin. He walked off to an unoccupied corner and was followed by Stephanie. 

"You keep glaring at Damian and Maya. Did they do something?" Stephanie asked, heavy concern coating her words. 

"No." Dick just wanted to drop it and think about something else. 

"...Are you jealous?"

"What?" Dick sputtered. 

It was like a light bulb was blinking above her head. "You're jealous because...you like Maya?"

"What? No! Absolutely not. I don't feel that way for Maya." Dick exasperated.

Stephanie looked at Dick for the longest time, searching before a thought dawned on her and realization crossed on her features. 

"Is it...Damian?" 

Dick's face depicted horror and he couldn't quite find the words to throw her off of that conclusion. On top of that, his silence cemented her suspicions.

"Oh, my god. Dick...you like him. You've got the hots for demon boy. No wonder you've been all sour faced tonight..."

"No, it's not like that. He's...he's my little brother. I watched him grow up-"

"You've got feelings for the spawn of Satan. And you're jealous that it's Maya as his date and not you-"

"I was his  _Batman_. I helped train him, became his mentor-"

"Dick, I don't care what you say. I'm already shipping it."

Dick groaned in frustration. He didn't have...feelings for Damian. He couldn't. He'd watched him grow throughout the years, trained with him and gave him the guidance that even Bruce fell short of time to time. He had viewed the boy as his equal, in the field and as his brother. He did love Damian, just not in that way. Never that way. 

So why did he feel like this? What's to explain his foul mood tonight?

"Stephanie, it's not like that. I can't even begin to list to you the multitude of reasons why it's _wrong_. It's nothing like that."

"Oh, please," Stephanie waved him off. "You two aren't actually related. And he's one hundred percent  _legal,_ so..." She nudged him playfully. Dick said nothing, just glared at her.

Stephanie sighed. "Dick, you like him. Just admit it to yourself. You can dance around it all you like, but it's not going to change anything. And clearly seeing him with other people bothers you, so you should just be upfront about it."

"No, Stephanie. It's nothing like that. And you need to stop suggesting it." Dick could feel himself getting snippy. It wasn't like that, he wasn't attracted to Damian. He wasn't. And it was wrong of Stephanie to even imply something so far-fetched. Dick was already struggling to sort through his unwarranted thoughts and emotions, he didn't need Stephanie adding to it with such ridiculous insinuations. He didn't need it. 

Stephanie rolled her eyes at Dick. "Jealousy isn't cute, Dick. It just makes you look desperate."

"For the last time Steph, I do not have feelings for-"

A gunshot cracked in the ballroom. Immediate chaos ensued as all of the attendees screamed and scattered across the floor like roaches. Among the madness Dick and Stephanie stiffened and were on high alert. Dick searched across the room to see Damian and Maya disappear out the back door. Dick caught a flash of a very familiar face in the crowd. His skin was bleached a pasty white with red, obnoxious lips and a smile so sinister it never failed to give Dick the chills.

"Well, now," The Joker exclaimed. "Where's the birthday boy?"

 

 

"I almost want to thank the clown for interrupting that abominable party, I was nearly tempted to just make a run for it." Damian said as tied up his boots. They were in the batcave, suiting up. Damian and Maya had managed to take out the Joker's henchmen outside of the Wayne tower. They had cut into the henchmen's radio coordinates to decipher their plans. Because Damian didn't have his Striker suit, he stole a henchmen's outfit (who he knocked out) and took out the remaining snipers and lookouts in the Tower. Maya had returned to the ballroom as Nobody and incapacitated the Joker as Gotham's police force trickled in and surrounded the ballroom. The whole ordeal made headlines and ruffled the feathers of many socialites. 

"People could've died tonight, Damian." Bruce said sternly as he slipped the Batmask over his face. Damian just rolled his eyes. 

Dick was completely suited up, feeling a distinct sense of adrenaline over the events of the night. His mind still floated back to the concerning conversation he shared with Stephanie. He tried to disregard the whole thing, but it came back to haunt him. 

_Just admit it to yourself._

The implications were ridiculous and Dick should just leave it at that. He didn't feel that way at all. And it shouldn't bother him so much, he shouldn't even be entertaining the thought. He did not have feelings for Damian. It was impossible and wrong. 

Damian, now suited up as Striker, sauntered over to Nightwing. 

"I wished you had saved me from that monster  _Maya._ She would not let me be in peace for even a moment, it was like having a warden. I would of rather spent the stupid party with  _you_ if you'd even bothered to step in." He complained. 

At that, warmth started to spread over Nightwing's body like wildfire. He felt his mouth suddenly go dry, his heart began to hammer so hard in his chest that he was frightened Striker might hear. He tried to fight back the blossoming of emotions that threatened to spill.

"Um, yea," Nightwing stammered. "I'll remember to step in next time." Striker nodded and walked over to Batman examining the Batcomputer screen. 

He knew what these feelings were when Stephanie had put a name on it, but it horrified him all the same. 

_I'm going to hell._


	4. Clipped Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian gets injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, looks like we're coming to a close. I hope you guys have enjoyed this so far and I'll be putting up chapter 5 real soon. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.

It was an incident that had caught everyone off guard. 

Damian's twentieth birthday was a distressing time for the Wayne family. Balloons and cards were replaced with IV bags and stitches. 

It all started off with a routine patrol. Shortly after Damian's eighteenth birthday, he had officially moved out of the Wayne estate and occupied a luxurious apartment in the city of Gotham. Due to his location, Damian was always within proximity of Colin, and that coincidence warranted them patrolling together regularly. They eventually became an admired duo as Striker and Abuse to much of the public. 

Weeks before his birthday, Striker and Abuse had a deadly run in with DeathStroke. 

The assassin had paid Gotham a quiet visit with the intent of killing the mayor, Adam Sharp, and collecting pay from an unknown source. It was pure luck that Striker and Abuse had realized Deathstroke's presence, the man was not on their radar whatsoever. But a slip-up which resulted in a dead security guard at the city hall was all the evidence Striker needed to know who was responsible. 

They caught the assassin not too far from the scene, attempting to make a hasty escape. It was a remarkably violent fight on the rooftops as Striker and Abuse tried to incapacitate Deathstroke. Even with the strength of Abuse and the speed of Striker, Deathstroke met them with every hit, every dodge, and every jumped before either of them came close to leaving a mark on the man. It was at one point, Deathstoke became fed up with fighting and attempted to simply finish off Abuse with a swift lunge. Striker caught the motion of Deathstroke's sword aiming to pierce Abuse's chest, and blocked him. The assassin retaliated promptly with slamming his boot in Striker's chest, knocking him off a four story building. Abuse immediately aided Striker while Deathstroke resumed his escape. 

It was bad all around. 

As soon as Abuse brought Striker's predicament to Batman's attention, the young vigilante had lost a third of his blood. He suffered a severe concussion and several broken ribs. His kneecap was completely shattered along with a broken leg. His arm was fractured and his wrist was sprained. By the time Batman had shown up, Striker was hanging onto consciousness by a thread. And to top it off, Deathstroke had escaped successfully. 

Damian spent the next few weeks back at the Wayne manor in and out of consciousness. Alfred tended to him daily while friends and family came and went. Colin, however, made it a point to stay days at a time and keep Damian company. Dick later came to realize why when he was able to free himself from business in Bludhaven and give Damian his undivided attention. 

When he knocked at the doors of the Wayne manor, it was Colin who appeared rather than Alfred. And the kid looked like hell. 

Colin's usually rosy face was pale and sunken, his eyes were heavy with bags and his hair was tousled. The clothes he wore looked baggier than usual, a telltale sign of losing weight and muscle. Still, the red head attempted a sincere smile when he saw Dick's face.

"Hey, Dickie," Colin Greeted softly. "Alfred's a bit a busy changing Damian's bandages, come on in." He stepped aside for Dick. Dick closed the door behind himself as Colin continued to converse. 

"So," Colin started. "How's it going in Bludhaven? Anything interesting?"

Dick shrugged. "Not much. Aside from the random prison breakouts and bouncing between Nightwing and Officer Grayson, things are pretty standard. How's Damian?"

Colin hesitated. "He's...getting better. He's a lot more awake these days. He's been going on about...talking to his mother to get a surgeon to take care of him. Says he'll heal a lot faster if he has her people on the whole thing."

Dick hummed. Damian's relationship with Talia has healed over the years, they still butt heads time to time, and Talia was the current leader of the League of Assassins. Dick was certain that whatever she had up her sleeve  _would_  heal him much faster than the old fashion way. But he imagined Bruce would be strongly opposed to whatever tricks Talia would deal on Damian's well-being. 

"So, how are you, Colin? I know this has probably been tough." Dick asked gingerly. 

Colin looked lost but just shrugged. "I'm...it's- I'm fine. Just dandy. I've seen better days, though." Colin laughed weakly. Dick observed him carefully. He could practically smell the guilt. 

Dick rested a comforting hand on Colin's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault."

At that, all of Colin's thoughts spilled out. 

"Yes it is." He Knocked Dick's hand away. "If I hadn't been so  _stupid_ , if I'd paid attention, Damian wouldn't have had to go out of his way to cover my ass. He's all fucked up and Slade got away with it. I accomplished nothing but get my friend hurt. It was my fault." 

Dick pulled him in for a hug. "No, it most certainly is not your fault. You couldn't predict what would happen, and Slade was the one who knocked him off the rooftop, not you. We take a risk every single night when we put on our suits. Bad stuff happens, and fortunately Damian was strong enough to pull through. Don't put that pressure on yourself. It's not your fault and he sure as hell doesn't blame you." 

Dick could tell by Colin's silence that his misplaced guilt still prickled his mind, but the ginger nodded against Dick's chest. Dick wanted to continue to comfort the kid, but he also needed to see Damian. He released Colin and patted him gently on the back. He left Colin to his own devices and hoped his words would sink in the ginger's reasoning. 

Dick was prepared to be shocked at the sight waiting for him. He didn't know what to expect, he had the silly image of Damian completely wrapped like a mummy. When he came to a stop at Damian's front door he took a deep breath. He gently cracked it open and popped his head to peek. 

Damian was wide awake and prepped up on an infirmary bed with a stack of pillows supporting his head and back. His arm and leg was wrapped in a cast with multiple scribbles of signatures. He was wearing what Dick assumed was black satin pajamas. 

"Are you going to just stare at me or are you going to come in, imbecile?"

"Well, you certainly sound like you're feeling better," Dick snorted as he made his way toward Damian's bed. He pulled a chair with him and seated himself right next to Damian's bed. 

"So," Dick said. "I got wind you're getting better. I'm glad to hear it. I know this has all been hell for you these past couple of weeks."

Damian grunted. "I would be better at a much greater rate if father would stop being so difficult with mother. Her doctors have never failed me as a child and kept me at superior health." 

"Mm. I imagine what with being the demon's head and everything. Wouldn't wanna take a sick day off." 

"Oh, har har Grayson. You don't have to sit here in utter boredom with an old butler fretting over and your idiot friend moping every waking moment." Damian huffed. 

"Hey, now. I was in your shoes once, too. I had my slip-ups as Robin and experienced the butler-fretting-and-guilty-friend scenario on several occasions. We're all just glad it's that scenario and nothing more bleak." Dick lounged back comfortably. 

Damian suddenly became more grim. "Colin continues to blame himself." Dick nodded but said nothing.

"He is not at fault. It was all Slade. Yet, the fool holds himself responsible for something he did not commit." Damian said frustrated. 

Dick just sighed. "Well, when someone you care about gets hurt on your watch, you have a habit of taking some type of responsibility. Colin's gonna feel guilty regardless, but he should know that it's not his fault." 

Damian let Dick's words mull over as he relaxed into the pillows. The next thing that comes out of Damian's mouth catches Dick completely off guard. 

"Why haven't you been around lately? I hardly see you anymore." 

Dick became stock-still, sweat started to break out on the back of his neck. It is true that his presence has lessened in the manor, and Gotham for that matter. Ever since the gala of Damian's nineteenth birthday and the disturbing realization that dawned on him about his feelings toward him, he found it hard to act normal around the youngest Wayne. Whenever he and Damian were together, thoughts would begin to swim, thoughts he didn't want to give attention. But as time went on, he came to understand the emotions that took over,  and with those emotions came the very thoughts that bred another desire he was very familiar with. 

It was Damian's smile and spunk he adored. The boy was very intelligent and passionate, he worked hard and rarely gave in to defeat. Despite his awful habit of overestimating his own abilities, he had ingenuity and wit, he was always ready to take the lead and prove a point. The qualities Damian possessed was something that attracted Dick like a bee to honey. It was so much that Dick wanted to possess him, to make him  _his._

It was hard to confront, but Dick wanted every inch of Damian. 

He wanted to touch him, hold him,  _taste him._ Push him down and kiss him until he was breathless. Leave harsh love-bites all over his body, nestle himself between Damian's thighs and grind. Make Damian feel pleasure, tease him. Show the boy exactly what he was capable of until Damian couldn't bear it no longer. Dick wanted to hear him _beg_   for release. 

There were so many nights he played vivid fantasies in which he was indulging in Damian's body. And whenever those fantasies presented themselves, Dick found it hard to look Damian in the eye the next day without guilt pooling in his head. 

Dick shook his head. "Um, I've ah, been busy in Bludhaven. Lots of stuff going on in the police force, crime has spiked, so uh, yeah." He said pathetically. 

Damian glared at him and rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm sure you can find some time away from your busy schedule. I've-father has missed you." 

Dick smiled at his 'discreet' slip-up. "I've missed you too buddy. But it's going to be tough trying to get away from Bludhaven time to time."

"Tt. Figure it out."

"Well, alright then, smartass."

They talked for what felt like hours. Mostly Dick playing twenty questions, asking about Damian's schooling, his friends, training, everything that relates to Damian. At one point they stopped talking and Damian drifted into a peaceful slumber, his haughtiness melting into a tranquil lull. It was one of the few times where Damian allowed himself to be completely off- guard, and it flattered Dick that he trusted him enough to let his walls fall, even if for a few hours. 

Dick began to wonder briefly if he should leave, Damian probably wouldn't wake up again until the moon took precedence of the sun. He could certainly come back tomorrow. 

As Dick prepared to get up and leave, he took one more look at Damian's face. The kid's features had soften. Dick noticed the hint of adolescent baby fat that still sit in his cheeks and the elegance of Talia in the shape of his eyes. Dick noticed his soft lips. 

_Just once. Just to calm the tide. He's asleep._

Dick bit his lip. He'd fought off the urges multiple times, never once giving in to the awful yearnings. 

But what would one stolen kiss hurt?

Dick leaned over an unaware Damian, drinking in the sight of his face. But he hesitated just a breath away from brushing lips, uncertain. 

_This is **wrong**._

"Grayson, what on earth are you doing?"

Dick nearly jumped out of his skin. Of course Damian would wake up at the sense of someone in his face. 

The youngest Wayne stared up at Dick in complete confusion, and slightly drowsy.

Dick struggled to think. "Uh, nothing! I, uh, I gotta run. See ya!" 

Dick damn near dashed out of the mansion, almost crashing into a confused Colin and avoiding Alfred's questioning face. 

 

Dick knew for sure that he was the world's biggest idiot. 


	5. Just Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After nearly five years, Dick opens up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter is long as fuck, but it's the final chapter. I hope everyone's enjoyed this story. It's the first where I actually pushed forward and saw to the end, so I'm pretty satisfied. The feedback has been positive, so I'll probably make more of these in the future, however not at the fast pace I was going because school will be starting again soon and I'm starting a new job. But expect to see some one-shots or short stories here and there. Anyways, enjoy.

In the wake of his slip-up, Dick made the active decision to pull back.

A few weeks after Damian’s twentieth birthday, he was able to walk again and function on his own, though much of that was due to Alfred and Colin constantly fussing over him. Tim and Jason eased him into some weekly sparring sessions to help him regain lost muscle. A few more weeks go by until Bruce allows Damian to patrol again, on account that Stephanie and Barbara monitor his progress.

Dick was involved with none of it.

He had continued to visit after his lapse in lust. Damian eyed him with careful suspicion and puzzlement, but never brought up the incident. Dick didn't know whether to be thankful or downright ashamed. Though as time wore on, Dick's visitations began to lessen until his presence was non-existent in Gotham. After the impulse, Dick couldn't find it in himself to be around the youngest Wayne without the flurry of desire impairing his better judgement. So he kept his distance.

And Damian noticed.

Damian had not been assertive at first, figuring Dick was busy with his work in Bludhaven. But when the weeks turned into months, Damian began a coercion that turned into straight harassment. Dick would find himself bombarded with phone calls, endless voice mails, long detailed texts messages with not-so-subtle threats, and even emails. Damian rarely ever does email.

The longer Dick ignored him, the harder Damian fought.

The youngest Wayne would make unexpected appearances in Bludhaven, only for Dick to come up with a piss poor excuse to avoid any lengthy interaction, taking on more hours at the police department and leaving Damian idle until he went home. Dick even turned down patrol in Gotham a few times when Bruce requested his help, all to avoid being near Damian. This madness had continued for months until shortly after Damian's twenty-first birthday. It was at that point when all the pressure, intimidation and failed interrogations from Damian had seized.

Dick knew he was being unreasonably cruel, he was deteriorating their relationship with no given explanation, he was pushing Damian away. And it was only cemented when he ignored his birthday.

Damian didn't contact Dick anymore.

 

 

  
  
"There you are you twinky-ass motherfucker!”

Dick ducks his head, narrowly avoiding the swipe of a boot.

Dick had just finished a long night of patrol. Recent criminal activity has taken a toll on Bludhaven. Robbery sprees, random muggings, and some mafia business seemed to have surged in the last couple of days. Running back and forth between Nightwing and officer Grayson with the added stress was wearing on Dick’s body and mind. The moment he stepped into his apartment, he was ready to collapse on the floor, suit and all.

However, he was not expecting an angry Red Hood attempting to beat him to a pulp.

“Wha-Jason? What are you doing here-” Dick barely had time to avoid a fist coming for his jaw.

“Hold still so I can kick your ass!” Jason barked as he dropped and swiped a leg under Dick, throwing him off balance.

Dick, with practiced fluidity and ease, catches himself immediately and springs back up, putting ample distance between himself and Jason.

Jason lunges at Dick, tackling him down and knocking over some chairs. They wrestle on the floor for a bit until Dick twists Jason's arms behind his back and places a firm knee between his shoulder blades.

Dick huffed. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it, Jay. There's no need to fight.”

Jason just sneered at him. Knowing the loose canon Jason can be, Dick didn't relent.

“I don't know what your problem is, but I think it would be more effective if you voiced it, rather than attempt to strangle me.”

Jason lets out a humorless laugh. “ _I'm_ not the one with a problem, _lover boy.”_

“What?” Dick said, loosening his grip. Jason took that opportunity to snatch his arm back and shoot himself off the ground, knocking Dick on his butt.

Dick hops back up, alert and defensive. Jason doesn't make any more hostile actions towards him, instead he lifts off his red helmet to glare at him.

“Stephanie told me all about it.”

Dick’s heart rate spikes. “About what?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Don't play stupid, boy blunder. Your little crush on the demon spawn. She told me you were acting weird for awhile until she put two and two together. But I guess after what, five years? Heh, can't really call it a crush anymore, can ya?”

Dick felt his body overcome with the sense of dread and shame. He shook his head.

“I...I am not in lo...I don't have feelings for him.”

Jason just stared him, bored. “Say that again, and this time, actually try to be believable.”

Dick groaned. “Whatever Steph told you isn't true, she's just making up wild delusions-”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because you're doing a shit job if you're trying to fool me.”

Dick just looked down for a moment, closing his eyes. He allowed silence to stretch until Jason clicked his tongue impatiently.

Dick sighed. “It's just...wrong.”

Jason didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

“I don't know why, it just...happened. I didn't think anything of it at first, but it just got to a point...and there are so many reasons why it's messed up, I just…” Dick trailed off.

Jason placed placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him an annoyed look.

“Dick, in the most sincerest way I can muster, I do not give an ounce of a fuck. Not one. How you feel about the antichrist is your problem. However, what I do give a fuck about is that squirt’s catty attitude.”

Dick quirked an eyebrow. Jason sighed.

“For the past however many weeks, he has lived up to his nickname,” Jason complained. “That brat has been a complete pain in the ass. He has given everyone hell, I can't even come over and eat Alfred's cookies without the little shit ruining it with his attitude. If what Stephanie said is true, and the only way to get him to chill is for you to stop being a coward, then damn it I'm gonna make it happen.”

Dick shook his head. “I can't, it'll ruin our relationship.”

Jason punched his arm. “You already ruined your relationship, dickwad! I'm here to tell you to go fix it. Stop pussyfooting around. You think avoiding him for damn near a year is going to help in the long run? Jesus, Dick, go talk to him. This is seriously getting ridiculous.”

Dick stalked away from Jason and took a collective breath. He needed to think, but he really didn't want to consider the truth of Jason's words. That what he's been doing to Damian was only straining things.

“Jason, I just can't. I can't talk to him about this.”

“You are a special kind of stupid, Dick,” Jason said irritably. “You’re coming to Gotham this weekend, right? That is a perfect time to sit him down and lay it on the table. Don't you even miss the fucking kid?”

Dick said nothing. Seeing that he wasn't going to get through to him, Jason rolled his eyes and walked towards Dick’s window.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

Jason jumped out the window. Dick didn't get much sleep that night.

 

  
  
  
Dick found himself back in Gotham. He had promised Bruce that he would step in for Batman since he had business to handle in Eastern Europe. Jason's words still echoed in Dick’s head, and the thought of running into Damian made his stomach jump, but he couldn't back out of the promise he made to Bruce.

When he had entered the batcave, he looked up the routes Striker usually occupied and created alternative routes to avoid crossing paths. Dick suited up as Nightwing without a word to Alfred and sped out into the city in the batmobile.

Rain kissed every inch of Gotham by the time Nightwing parked the batmobile in an ominous alleyway. The sleekness of the rooftops were a little precarious, but Nightwing could discern his actions and take care not to fall off any buildings.

Maybe two hours passed in which he stopped three muggings and saved a woman from being sexually assaulted outside of loud and crowded club. After that, he took a moment to catch his breath behind a dumpster in a back alley.

Dick’s mind drifted back to Jason's words. He wasn't wrong. What he had done to Damian these past months was pointless, he wasn't doing anything but hurting him and straining their relationship, if it even still existed. Dick was not benefiting from his own shitty strategy nor was Damian.

He needed to talk to Damian.

The thought of coming clean, baring himself for the boy’s judgement was terrifying. The yearnings, the fantasies, he wasn't sure if he wanted to expose it when it killed him to even feel the way he felt. But he had too. Damian deserved an explanation. He deserved better than what Dick was putting him through.

He remembered the routes Striker took, and was about to search all of them when he heard a very familiar voice.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence.”

Striker stood a few feet away from him. If Nightwing hadn't been stricken with instant panic he would've commended him for his stealth.

“...how exactly did you know where to find me?” Nightwing asked cautiously.

“Jason,” Striker said, very clipped. “He implanted a chip in your suit when he visited you a few nights ago. Unlike you, he was a good enough brother to give me the tip and the tracker on your whereabouts.”

Nightwing flinched at the ‘good brother’ part. The familiar sense of guilt flooded, but it was a different type of guilt. There were probably countless times where Damian needed his guidance or reassurance, and he wasn't around to aid him or tell him that he was doing fine, giving him much needed encouragement.

Silence stretched before Striker decided to speak.

“I am giving you one last chance, Richard. If you decide to run off and fabricate whatever excuse to avoid me, we are done. I am not going to allow you to continue to torment me anymore.” Damian, not Striker, said with finality.

Dick looked down. “Damian...I'm sorry. I know what I've done was cruel. I know this sounds shitty but I never meant to hurt you. What I did was was messed up, and whatever it takes to pick up the pieces, I'm willing to do.”

He looked back up to Damian's face, who was clearly not moved at all by Dick’s apology. Even under the mask, Dick could sense his cold demeanor.

“...why did you stop talking to me?” Damian asked, his words frosty.

Dick opened his mouth then shut it. He didn't know how to properly explain now that the opportunity presented itself.

Damian continued. “Were you just sick of me? Did you find my presence to be distasteful?”

“Wha-no, no. I love being around you, Damian,” Dick defended weakly.

“Or do you just not care about me anymore? Do you not have a spot for me in your heart anymore?”

“No! I love you very much, Damian. You mean the world to me.”

“ _Then why did you just abandon me?! Why did you stop everything?!”_

Dick was surprised by Damian's sudden outburst. He couldn't find the words to stop the flow of anger and hurt that was leaving the boy.

“You stopped coming to visit. You stopped texting me. You stopped patrolling with me. You just stopped. You didn't even say a _word on my birthday, the_ **_one_ ** _occasion I had faith you would just talk to me. What could I have possibly done to make you want to push me away?”_

Dick stood awkwardly, trying to gather his thoughts quickly to calm Damian down, but he wasn't given the chance when Damian abruptly turned around and walked away.

“I'm done allowing you to hurt me. We are _done_.”

Dick panicked. “Damian. Wait, please. Let me explain.” Dick chased after him.

Damian didn't slow down his pace, pulling out his grappling hook and aiming for the ledge of a building. Dick was able to catch up and grab his shoulders before he shot off his grapple. He spun Damian around to face him, reigniting the youngest Wayne's anger.

“ _Don't you dare touch me-”_

Without thinking, Dick did the one thing he felt could at least halt the situation.

He kissed Damian.

He kissed him. And it was everything he wished for, everything he dreamed of, just the press of warm, soft, full lips against his. He experienced countless nights where all he could think about was Damian's lips, swollen and wet from Dick’s relentless affection.

Damian was motionless. He didn't fight Dick off, but he didn't engage either. It worried Dick, so he pulled to back and gave him space.

Damian said nothing, and Dick couldn't pick up on anything because the boy’s face was completely blank

“Look,” Dick started. “I've...I've been feeling something for you for awhile. Some things that aren't exactly appropriate for an older brother.”

Dick waited for a response, but continued with he was met with silence.

“Damian, I...God. I love you. I'm in love with you. I want you. And it's something that I came to understand when you turned nineteen. Though if I'm being honest, it probably started when you were seventeen. I felt...wrong. Awful, thinking about you and associating you with these feelings. I adore you so much and it scares me. I thought if I put space between us maybe it'll simmer down the temptation I feel whenever I'm with you. If you want me to leave you alone for good, I understand. But I just want you to know it wasn't anything you ever did, and I never meant to hurt you.”

Damian was still silent. His face didn't give any indication of what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

Dick sighed. “I'm sorry for the pain I caused. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for all the times you needed me. I'm sorry I didn't do anything for your birthday-ow! What the hell?”

Dick instantly grabbed for his knee and leaned against the brick wall for support.

“Did you seriously just kick me in the shin?”

Damian crossed his arms, glaring. “Yes. I most certainly did. And I regret nothing.”

“Well, it hurt!”

“Well, you deserved it. Honestly, is that what's kept you from talking to me?”

Dick was a little stunned by Damian's suddenly nonchalant mood. Dick could see remnants of his anger from earlier, but it was taken down a few notches.

“Um, yeah...it was kind of a big deal for me. Didn't exactly know how to handle it or accept it, much less confess to you. But you seem pretty...unbothered by it.”

“Because I'm reciprocating. However, these past months you had me convinced it was utterly pointless.”

Dick’s response was belated. “...you feel the same?”

“Tt. Duh, keep up.”

Dick scratched his head. “Wow, okay. I was not expecting this turn of events. It's nice but, uh, wow.”

“Tt. Yes, surprise surprise. We're both finally on the same page. It doesn't change what an ass you've been this entire year.”

Dick nodded, not disagreeing whatsoever. “I know. If there's any way I  make it up to you, I'll do it.”

Damian suddenly turns shy, not looking Dick in the eye.

“I want you to kiss me again.”

Dick didn't hesitate. He dipped down as Damian tilted his head back for another brush of lips. He took his time, gently biting down on the soft flesh. Damian was a bit clumsy, accidentally bumping Dick's nose a couple of times (which Dick didn't mind because he thought it was adorable anyway) until he finally found an easy rhythm and melted into the passionate kiss. 

For an uncertain amount of time, they remained that way in the alley. Locked in a heated embrace, the kiss getting desperate and tense. Dick found himself growing hard with a desire. When Damian felt it brush against his thigh, he pulled back. 

"Hold it, Richard.”

Dick immediately dropped his hands from the the youngest Wayne.

“I’m sorry, was I moving too fast? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. After what I put you through, you have every right to determine how and where this goes.”

Damian just rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, imbecile. It’s just...I don’t want our first time to be in a filthy alley behind a _dumpster_ of all places. We save that special occasion for another time. But I’m not oppose to doing anything else. And we should hurry because I’m suppose to finish up my route.”

“...you want a quickie. No penetration.”

Damian’s face twisted in annoyance. “Don’t make it sound so vulgar.”

Dick just laughed. “Well, that’s kinda what you’re telling me, little D.”

“You could word it more gently.”

“You want something sexual without the whole penetration deal. Sounds better?”

“Tt, enough babbling.” Damian lunges back in for a kiss. Dick pushes him gently against the brick wall and leaves a trail of hot kisses from his jawline to his collarbone. He traces his hand along Damian’s stomach, garnering a sigh from the boy. Damian runs his fingers through Dick’s hair and tugs him back up for another kiss, this time a little more confident, slipping in a darting tongue.

At some point, Dick’s hand ghost past Damian’s waist and over his groin, he could feel the stiffness growing there. He runs a hand over the hard length, pulling light moans and gasps from him. Damian thrust his hips into Dick’s hand for more friction, but Dick continues his teasing motions until he works up a tent in Damian's pants.

Damian's head falls back against the wall as Dicks fingers trace the outline of his cock. Dick figured he teased him enough, plus the youngest Wayne was on a time crunch anyway. He steps back and unbuckle his pants.

“What are you doing, Grayson?” Damian pants.

“Mm. You'll see in sec.”

Dick releases his own hard on, letting it spring out in the night air. Damian stares at it, a blush staining his cheeks. He steps back into Damian's space and slips a rough hand into his pants to grasp Damian's pulsing erection.

“Richard…” Damian moans. Dick exposes Damian's cock. His thumb teases the leaking slit. He joins both of their cocks together in his fist and starts pumping. He goes at a steady pace until their both dripping over his fingers.

Damian lets out breathy cry. “Faster!”

“The magic word?” Dick asked teasingly.

“Faster, you bastard!”

“Wrong.” Dick slows his pace to an aching crawl. It still drives a burn in his loins, especially with Damian's skin rubbing against his sensitive flesh.

“Please, Dick, faster. I need it.”

“That sounds better.” He kicks it into gear and starts pumping quicker. Damian's moans grow louder and sharper, enough to echo in the alley. Dick can feel the curl of a exquisite ache, the whisper of an orgasm.

“I need you to say it back,” Dick grunted.

Damian's mind was clearly swallowed in pleasure. It took him a moment to respond.

“What?”

“I told you I love you, I need to hear you say it back.”

“I-ah! Damn it, I love you, too. Just don't stop, please.”

Dick stroked them until Damian came, squirting over Dick’s fingers. He didn't stop until the pleasure overtook him too, making just as much of a mess.

Dick released their cocks and gives Damian space, they both needed to catch their breaths.

Damian spoke first, sounding a little more calm. “Don't get use to me saying that often.”

Dick buckled up his pants. “What? ‘Please’ or ‘I love you’?”

“Either, moron.”

Dick chuckled. Damian adjusted his suit and took out his grappling hook. He aimed for the ledge in front of him.

Dick grabbed his arm. “Wait, do you mind if I tag along? I've missed patrolling with you.”

Damian snorted and offered Dick his rare smiles.

“Tt, Duh. You’ve officially been forgiven. You're more than welcome to follow me wherever I go.”

 

 

 

“Well, master Dick. It's nice to see you without attempting your disappearing acts.” Alfred said as he inspected the batmobile.

They were back in the cave. Bruce was present, deciding to return back to Gotham early to reopen a cold case concerning Harvey Dent. Barbara and Tim were looming over him by the computer, studying his gallery of files and imprisoned criminals. Stephanie was leaning against the batmobile despite Alfred's subtle complaints. She kept eyeballing Dick and Damian standing so close, in the same room, in each other's presence. She smirked.

“Something funny, Brown?” Damian grumbled, annoyed.

Stephanie put up her hands in mock defense. “Nothing, nothing. Just notice that the air is less, how do you say, tense.”

Tim and Barbara glanced back and shared confused looks, but continued their task with Bruce.

Dick did not blame Damian for being annoyed. They were both finally able to put everything on the table and come to a understanding, which resulted in a healed and newly intimate relationship, and some fun on top of it. He did not need Stephanie tipping off any of the family members just yet. He still needed to talk to Damian about how exactly they were going to explain their relationship to Bruce. God, Bruce….

Jason came down the stairs from the manor, no helmet or mask. He glanced up to see Damian and Dick.

“Oh, you two fuckers are in the same room together? Halle-fucking-lujah,” Jason exclaimed dramatically.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara finally stop what they were doing to look between Jason, Damian and Dick.

Tim broke the silence. “What're you guys talking about? What's going on?”

“It nothing! Jason's just being a little goofball, that's all,” Dick says rushed.

Jason ignored Dick. “So we're all going to act like demon boy over there wasn't acting crazy for like, what, months?”

Bruce turned his attention to Damian. “You have been in a foul mood for quite some time, though I was under the impression you needed time and space. Has anything change about that?”

Barbara piped in. “You know, we haven't really seen you much lately Dick, is everything okay?”

Tim decided to add his two cents. “It's been awhile since we've seen either of you in the same room. Did something happen?”

Dick wanted to flip a table. “Everything is fine. I'm fine. He's fine. We're all fine, let's drop the interrogation and focus on the case.”

Barbara and Tim looked to each other concerned while Bruce held a solid stare at Dick’s panicked reaction.

Jason snickered at the whole ordeal. Stephanie just watched, probably wishing she had a bag of popcorn.

At the sound of Jason’s amusement Damian snapped.

“Watch yourself, Todd. I have no qualms over cutting off your _tongue_.”

“You know, if it wasn't for that afterglow make up sex, I’d think you guys didn't manage to make it to third base.” Jason said casually.

Everything stopped. All eyes focused on Dick and Damian.

“...excuse me?” Bruce said dangerously.

Dick squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of it until Bruce kicked the bucket. _Dammit Jason._

 

At least Damian would be there next to him to take on the wrath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really felt like this chapter was waaaay longer than it needed to be but oh well. Let me know if it was satisfying. I'm not really all that impressive with sex scenes so I'm definitely going to try to brush up on that.


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